Later that evening, Coralie sat in front of the fireplace in the Great Room of her mansion, watching the flames blossom, charring the fresh wood. Tears ran down her pale cheeks, but she refused to make a sound. She sat there defiantly, listening to the sounds of maids and butlers straightening things up, packing belongings away. Coralie clutched her toy bear, tightly to her chest as she fussed with the pink, satin ribbon around its neck. She began to replay the carriage ride home in her head.

Coralie stepped into the carriage, a small smile on her face, happy to have met some new friends.

"Hello, Bayard," she said quietly to the carriage driver. He turned to her with his eyes wide, a sad smile set on the middle-aged man's face.

"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle," he said. He sat there for merely a moment before climbing off of the driving bench. Slowly he made his way into the coach, sitting on the seat across from the little girl. The man took one of her hands in his, and looked down to the floor of the carriage. Coralie's heart jumped, she knew something was wrong.

"Mademoiselle," he started, getting a bit choked up. Coralie began to feel extremely nervous; it had always scared her to see a grown man cry.

"Something terrible has happened I'm afraid. You see, today, while your parents were out in their carriage there...there was an accident..." he trailed off for a moment and Coralie noticed the tears building in his eyes. She squeezed his hand, pressing him to go on.

"The carriage went into a river and...your parents...th-they drowned," he finished quietly. Coralie felt an immense ringing in her ears and her body felt hollow. This simply couldn't be happening. She sat there for a moment, staring into Bayard's eyes, as if silently asking him if this was all true. Finally she pulled her hands away from his and broke down into tiny sobs. She covered her face with her small hands. She didn't know what to say. All she could do was cry. Finally Bayard stepped out of the cart and back to the driving bench, as he began to bring her home.

Coralie was snapped from her thoughts when one of the maids, Hilda came in to sit with her.

"Mademoiselle?" she questioned hesitantly, taking a seat on one of the chairs. Coralie turned to her, sniffling.

"Yes Hilda," she said, looking back down at her dress, picking anxiously at some of the unraveled lace.

"My dear, we are trying to figure out where you are going as of now. Your mother's only sister seems to be un-contactable and all of your grandparents have passed. But we sent word to your parents' acquaintances, the Colville's. They are a very distinguished family and extremely wealthy. They weren't very good friends of your parents, however they seem to be interested in taking you in," she said, as she stroked the little girl's forearm. Coralie just kept starring into the fire, but finally she nodded slightly. Hilda sighed.

"There's one thing, Mademoiselle," she said nervously, "They would like you to be a...a maid in their household. They said that's the only way they would take you in," Coralie's deep-blue eyes widened slightly in response to Hilda.

"It's either this...or an orphanage, I fear," she said. Coralie shivered at the thought of an orphanage despite the crackling fire in front of her. Hilda stood and took one of Coralie's hands.